


Tell me the Truth about Love

by Annariel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many ways of loving, and some of them involve saying "go ahead then" when a megalomaniac threatens to kill the object of your affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell me the Truth about Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chordatesrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chordatesrock/gifts).



> Huge thanks to fredbassett for any extremely last minute beta and fixing my tenses. Britishisms are not her fault mind, I couldn't find an American beta in the likely timescale available.

Clint had gotten himself tied up to a chair. He was grinning cheekily through the blood from his forehead, but Natasha could guess, from the way his body tilted slightly to the right, that he had a broken rib and he was hiding the fact. She pursed her lips in disapproval of Clint, the men holding him, the situation and the world in general.

"Step away from the off switch or Hawkeye dies." The megalomaniac in the black leather was not particularly original, but the fact remained that he was too far away from her and too close to Clint. There was every chance he would make good on his threat.

Clint rolled his eyes at Natasha. She ignored him.

"Disarm that bomb now!" Agent Hill ordered firmly over Natasha's earpiece. Of course, it was Maria's job to give that kind of order. Natasha's job was to decide whether to obey.

She paused, considering, her hand poised in the air above the computer keyboard. She was aware that people would expect her to put Hawkeye first. Indeed the sharpness in Agent Hill's tone betrayed the fact that she was not entirely sure of being obeyed. Logic, of course, dictated that Natasha should disarm the bomb. It threatened the whole city. But there were a number of variables to consider: what was the chance of another opportunity arising to disarm it, for instance? Natasha imagined allowing her hand to drop harmlessly to her side and her heart constricted. It felt like a terrible betrayal, even though she couldn't explain the feeling. She looked over at Clint. His face was carefully neutral, but things were such between them that a neutral face was all she needed to see, in order to know.

Natasha shrugged ever so slightly, enough for Clint to see. She stabbed down at the disarm control then drew and emptied her gun into the computer. If she was going to put Clint's life on the line, she wanted to minimize the chance that someone could undo the damage too easily and quickly. That took her a second and she had to remove her eyes from Clint and his captors as she did so. There was time enough for a slow blink between the turn of her head towards the computer screen and its turn back. The megalomaniac did nothing in that moment, merely looked a little surprised. Good. Clint was already falling backwards, having pushed with his feet as soon as her shrug registered. When the megalomaniac recovered himself and pulled the trigger, Clint was no longer there, and Natasha had closed half the distance between them. On the comms she could hear Maria ordering S.H.I.E.L.D to storm the base, and Tony swearing and shouting out for both her and Clint. Gunfire erupted around her but she kept moving. To stop would be instant death.

Natasha dodged around a thug, still heading for the megalomaniac with the gun. He hesitated uncertain whether to shoot the now prone Clint or switch his attention to her. After another second, he moved the gun to cover her, but by this time it was far, far too late.

A minute later, when Iron Man arrived at the head of twenty S.H.I.E.L.D agents, Natasha and Clint were the only people standing. 

Iron Man paused, hovering upright a foot above the floor. "So, I guess you two aren't an item then?"

"What makes you say that?" Natasha had been ignoring Tony's probes for information for months, but she was genuinely curious that he had drawn a conclusion now.

Iron Man dropped to the floor and his body language suggested Tony was disconcerted. "Well, you know, the whole way you risked his life just then."

Clint laughed. "Don't be an idiot, Tony."

Natasha ignored the faint chill in her heart. It was a ridiculous feeling.

* * *

Natasha was folding away her uniform when Agent Hill knocked unexpectedly at the door to her quarters.

"Want to go out for a drink?" Hill asked.

Natasha frowned, processing the request and its possible hidden meanings.

"I am not in any way conflicted about the decision I took earlier," she replied.

Hill shifted her stance subtly but didn't go away. "However, Tony Stark _is_ an idiot."

Natasha permited herself a small smile and a nod. She pulled her jacket from a chair and shrugged it on.

"I've spoken to Hawkeye. I'm sure you know he is fine with the decision," Hill added as they walked out of the door.

"Unexpectedly, I am beginning to think that Barton is the only person around here right now who isn't an idiot." Natasha returned. "It is a shame they won't let him out of medical then _he_ could take me out for a drink."

Hill looked briefly confused but covered it well. There were some things Natasha couldn't explain. That was one of the reasons she had refused to be drawn upon whether she and Clint were or were not an item. She loved Clint Barton with a fierceness that surprised her and because she loved him and because she was who she was and because he was who he was, she could not let him down by risking the world for his sake. Clint Barton could never have trusted her afterwards and his trust is an all important constant in her life. 

Risking someone's life, no matter the stakes, was not something you could do to a lover, not without destroying love in the process. Or, at least, that was how it felt to her, and that was how every story she had read, and movie she had seen had gone. 

She thought Clint Barton understood all of this, but because, it seemed, everyone else was an idiot, it was all impossble to explain.

Hill made a small grunting noise and Natasha realised she had left the other woman behind. She stopped to turn and look back at her.

"All the more reason to come out for a drink," Hill offered.

Natasha allowed herself another smile, a larger one this time. It was rare that Hill made an effort like that, and Natasha respected the other woman, liked her even, in a somewhat professional capacity. Hill was telling her, she realised, not only that she made the right decision, but that everyone believed she had made the right decision. She would not be required to justify things she could not put into words.

"Do you drink vodka?" Natasha asked.

**Author's Note:**

> The title from a poem by W.H.Auden which is otherwise entirely irrelevant to this story and I didn't even recall where I got the quote from until I googled it.


End file.
